Poor Kid Meets It Girl
by Kamije Celeek
Summary: Kenny McCormick was never somebody to really fall in love. Kate Meyercheck was never somebody who felt like she could be loved. They silently fell for each other without ever speaking in the Alphabet City of yesterday until an electrical failure brought them together for the first time. Their respective pasts come to bite them in the ass and test their newfound relationship.


**Short one-shot based around my OC in** _ **From Jersey to Colorado**_ **and Kenny. I might crack 5000 words with this shit.**

 **Full Synopsis: Kenny McCormick was the poor kid, the bum, the troublemaker, the problem child, the bad boy, the one nobody wanted. Kate Meyercheck was the rich girl, the hard-worker, the honor student, the good girl, the one everybody wanted to be. Life has led them both to a studio-apartment building in NYC's 'Alphabet City', where Kenny lives with two of his childhood friends while Kate lives alone. Both are adults in their twenties, both feeling a little lonely and empty. They see each other every day, yet it's a fluke electrical failure that brings them together…**

* * *

I spot her leaving her apartment sometimes. She's always carrying a bright purple backpack and heading for the subway, dressed in a bright-colored blouse and a pair of black dress pants. Her long, deep brown hair is braided over her shoulder and she's talking to somebody on the phone. I have no idea where she was going or where she'd come from. She'd just moved into the building one day without me noticing and started going about her life. I don't even know her name. All I know is that she's out of my league, because her life is going somewhere. Me, I'm living in a New York studio apartment with two roommates who pay more of the rent than I do because I work minimum wage. I'm pretty sure that if they hadn't known me since we were babies, they would've kicked me to the curb by now.

"What's her name?"

Kyle snaps me from my thoughts with that question. He's dressed for his law classes at NYU, and Stan has already left for work. Me, I have the day off. Another day to sit in the apartment, pining over a hot girl who will never give me the time of day as long as I live.

"I don't know," I reply.

"Well, you should try to talk to her."

"Please. She's beautiful and going somewhere with her life. I'm going to drag her down."

 _Or get her killed_.

"Well, have fun being a stick in the mud. I'm going to class."

* * *

He's watching me, this time. I don't know his name, but he's watching me again. I don't mind, though. I see him most days, out on his fire escape. He lives in the apartment above mine, it seems, and he seems kind of nice. He was here when I moved in a few months ago, right after getting hired by the city as a social worker. I can't _not_ notice him because he's wearing a bright orange hoodie. He's a blonde, from what I can see, and I've mentioned him a few times to my friends, who keep telling me to just _talk to him_.

Oh, shit. I'm late for work!

* * *

It's late in the afternoon when she comes back with a little girl, maybe four or five years old. She's talking to the little girl, holding her hand as they walk into the building, carrying a duffle bag. I shift in my seat as they enter the building. I can hear them in the stairwell. Apparently, the little girl (whose name is Claire) is going to be staying with the mystery woman for a few days until they line up a suitable foster home.

She's a social worker.

I can't help but think of my little sister, still in Colorado with our parents. I was going to bring her to New York with me, but the dumbass judge said living with three men in a studio apartment in New York City wasn't a good place for a fourteen-year-old girl. She'll be eighteen soon, and she said she was coming to New York at the end of this school year for college and to live with me.

Ha.

I wish a social worker would've gone into our house when I was a kid and put us in a foster home that wasn't run by psychotic agnostics who waterboard the kids with Dr. Pepper. Maybe, if she was in Colorado when we were kids, I would've been put in a decent foster home with Karen and we could've had a chance.

I wish I had the guts to talk to her, about anything.

* * *

Claire is my latest charge. She's three years old and will be living with me until she finds a foster home. When I became a social worker, I offered to become an 'in-between' home for the kids they can't place right away, and she's the sweetest thing in the world. Unfortunately, her teen mother is also an alcoholic, so that means Claire can't stay with her.

"When can I go back to Mommy?"

That question. It hurts the most coming from little kids to me, because I asked the same question to my uncle/adoptive father when I first went to live with him when I was five. His answer was that I couldn't, at least not right away. I didn't know she was dead then, but I do now.

"Your mommy needs a time-out, so we're trying to find you a place to stay in while she has that time-out," I explain to Claire. She gives me a look.

"Is it because of the funny liquid Mommy drinks?"

"Y-yes. That funny liquid is bad, and your mommy needs to have her time-out because of it."

"Okay."

I'm not joking when I say being a temporary foster mom is the worst. I get attached to these kids so easily, and they leave…

* * *

Claire left a week ago. I was home when a van dropped by and picked up her and the mystery woman. She returned alone, without Claire, and seemed a little sad. I still couldn't talk to her, and now I'm on my way upstairs to the apartment when I hear her yell.

"FUCK!"

This is my chance to talk to her. It's dumb, but I'll take it. I'm just a concerned neighbor who happened to be passing by. I walk up to the giant sliding door and rap on it a few times. I hear her trip over something and mutter curses to herself before her footsteps approach the door. She opens it and leans against the doorframe. She's wearing an oversized T-shirt and plaid pajama pants, and for the first time, I see her bright green eyes and freckles against her fair skin. She's even prettier up close.

"Can I help you?" she asks, crossing her arms.

"Um, no, I heard you yell from out here, and I was wondering if you were hurt." She closes her eyes and mouths 'thank God'. "Do you need help?"

"Yeah, if you know anything about electricity."

"Circuit breaker?"

"Beats the hell out of me."

I follow her into her apartment, which is significantly cleaner than mine. There's a pile of books knocked over (which must be what she tripped over on her way to the door), but the rest of the books in the apartment are on shelves. Papers are in a neat stack on the table next to a laptop and a cup of pens and pencils.

"I'm Kenny, by the way," I tell her. She turns and smiles.

"Kate. Where do you live in the building?"

"Upstairs, right above you." I spot the circuit breaker and start fiddling with it. "You got a flashlight?"

"Yeah. Just a sec." Kate fumbles with her phone for a second before hitting the flashlight option and handing it to me. I use it and realize she's blown a fuse. She needs to replace a switch before she can have light. Damn.

"You've blown a fuse," I inform her. "You need to replace a switch before you can have power."

"Thank you. Do you know where I can get one?"

"Hardware store should have some in stock, but this is a specific make and model. I could go with you and help you get the right one."

"That would be great." She checked her watch. "Damn. I guess I'll have to order in."

"Well, don't let me keep you from your dinner. It was nice to meet you." I head towards the door after handing her back her phone. "I live in 4C. Stop by if you want."

"I will. You have to take me to the hardware store." She gives me this little smile that says she's flirting.

FUCK, YES!

"I've got Friday off, if that works," she continues.

"Me, too. Say, ten o'clock?"

"I'll meet you out front, okay?"

"Got it. And… I'll take you to lunch afterwards."

"Maybe." I'm in the hall now, and she's leaning against the door frame again. "It was nice to meet you, Kenny."

"You too, Kate."

"See you Friday. Night."

"Night."

I head upstairs and enter the empty apartment. Once the door's closed, I lean against it and pump my fists in victory. I then proceed to the fridge, where I grab a victory beer and pop it open with a smile before turning to the living room, where Kyle and Stan are staring at me with matching smirks. Oops. Guess the apartment wasn't as empty as I thought.

" _Somebody's_ in a good mood," Stan snickers.

"Yep!" I reply, too happy to be bothered by the fact that he's making fun of me.

"You got a date?"

"For Friday, ten o'clock."

"Name?" Kyle presses.

"Kate. I'm meeting her outside the building."

"Is she the one you've been stalking?"

"I have _not_ been stalking her!" I protest, walking across the room and sitting on the couch. "She was having some trouble with her circuit breaker and I offered to help her out."

"Uh-huh."

"Fuck you. Let me be happy."

"Whatever, man. At least you finally grew a pair and talked to her."

* * *

 _Oh my God_. He talked to me. He actually fucking _talked to me_.

When that knock on my door came, I was _sure_ it was our landlord, coming to bitch at me for being an 'in-between' home again. He doesn't want kids under sixteen in our building because he hates the noise.

 _If you don't like noise, then don't be a fucking landlord in_ **NEW YORK CITY**.

Anyway, I was glad it was just Kenny, but I'm a _tiny_ bit embarrassed that I tripped over a stack of books on my way to the door. He didn't seem to mind that I was in my pajamas, and he even helped me figure out what was wrong with my electricity. On top of all that, he asked me out on a date! It was to the hardware store, sure, but he said we'd go out for lunch afterwards.

I can't wait for Friday!

* * *

Friday arrives and I meet Kate outside the building. She's wearing her hair in a braid over her shoulder with a headband holding it away from her face. She's also pulling off a sweet farmgirl look in a pair of denim overalls and a long-sleeved purple shirt.

"Shall we?" she asks.

"We shall," I reply, walking with her towards the nearest hardware store. "Where did you live before New York?"

"I lived in Young Beach. In New Jersey. You?"

"A quiet little mountain town in Colorado."

"Sounds peaceful."

"Not really. We had a _lot_ of weird shit happen there."

"How about a cousin who got drunk and made out with an ice sculpture at your sweet sixteen?"

"Nothing like that, but we did have a guy who convinced another guy the world was ending so he could go to his favorite Mexican restaurant."

"Yeah, I think that has my town beat."

"So, why'd you move here?"

"To both get away from my parents and stay near my parents. My mom… she's a little overbearing with me and my brother, and my dad has always been overprotective, so I decided to move her to stay close but have some space." She tilted her head. "That make sense?"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it." We walked in silence all the rest of the walk. Finding the switch she needed was no problem, and she _did_ agree to go out to lunch with me. We ended up going to a little café nearby, where I ended up getting her number before we walked back to the building.

* * *

Today went so well! I think we'll be going out again sometime.

The conversation we had about our respective families was the most awkward thing ever. I didn't tell him everything because I don't want to scare him off. Still, it seems like he had a shittier childhood than I did.

" _Pick up the fucking phone, Jersey Whore!_ "

I sigh as I pick up my phone at the sound of my brother's voice. He made that ringtone before I left for New York and set it for him calling. I left it alone because it was the only one I could think of that would let me know he was calling me.

"What is it, fatass?" I ask snippily.

" _Oh, so you_ **do** _know how to use a phone! Why haven't you called Mom in a few weeks?!_ "

"Because I've been busy with my _job_ , something you'd know nothing about. You're just living with Mom and Dad and mooching off them."

" _Bullshit. I've been working._ "

"Minimum wage?"

" _I got promoted, which is good, because…_ "

"Heidi left your ass?"

" _HEY! She didn't just leave_ **me** _. She left Libby and Chris, too._ "

"THE FUCK?! She left her _three-year-old_ twins with _you_?!"

" _I'm not a bad father, Kate._ "

"Bullshit. You're a bad person, Eric, and you know it. Didn't you _kill_ your birth father?"

" _So, Mom wants to know how you've been, since you won't call her._ "

"Okay, so we're ignoring the whole patricide thing. Good to know." I sigh. "I've been fine. Busy, with social work, and I went out on a date this morning with one of my neighbors."

" _And I don't care. I'll tell Mom what you said._ "

"Also tell her that if she wants to talk to me, she needs to call me herself. I love her, but I'm _busy_."

" _I will. Up yours, Jersey Whore._ "

"Fuck you, fatass." I hung up.

A standard conversation with my stepbrother/cousin.

* * *

It's been two months since I started dating Kate, and things are starting to get a little weird. She's been very busy over the past couple of days, and she refuses to tell me what's going on. I'm in her apartment and she's asleep and drooling at the table. I gently shake her shoulder.

"Kate, babe, wake up," I whisper. She raises her head up, her eyes bleary from sleep and some of her hair stuck to the side of her mouth. "You fell asleep at the table again."

"Oh, sorry!" she yawns, sitting up. I snap her laptop (which is now dead) shut and go to make her some coffee (with plenty of sugar and cream).

"What's got you so busy lately?" I ask. She sighs as she stands up beside me and pulls

"I've been trying to get this one teenage girl who's been bounced around the country into a good foster home. She's… sixteen, I think, but she's had it rougher than I did."

"Really?"

Neither of us really talk about our respective families. For me, it's because the only family member worth talking about is my sister, and it's hard to bring her up in conversation. This is the first time since that conversation on the way to the hardware store she's brought up her childhood. Other than the fact that she was adopted by her aunt and uncle when she was nine.

"Yeah… my birth father… he hit me sometimes, but it's _nothing_ compared to how terrible he was to my birth mother." She shivers and shakes her head. "I don't want to talk about it. But… I finally did it, though. She's on her way to New York, where I'll keep her for a few days."

"Great job, babe!" I cheer, hugging her. "I know how much it means to you when you win a difficult case."

"Yeah." She hugs me from behind and I can feel her smile through my hoodie. She's so cute.

* * *

I'm so mad at myself for talking about Mike like that. My birth father is a man who deserves to be forgotten. In his eyes, I was nothing but a possession and a tool to help him make money. He killed my birth mother because she tried to protect me from him, and my uncle arrived to take me in. It makes me sick to even bring him up.

Kenny hands me my coffee (made just the way I like it—plenty of cream and sugar) and we sit down on the couch. Suddenly, my phone goes off with the grating, extra-annoying ringtone I know all too well.

" _Pick up the fucking phone, Jersey Whore!_ "

I grin at Kenny sheepishly before picking up.

"Hello, brother dearest," I say, getting up. I notice Kenny going over to my table/work desk and neatening up some of my papers. "Why are you calling me?"

" _Because I'm coming up to visit you this weekend with the kids._ "

"Um, no. No, you're not."

" _Yes, I am, sister dearest, because Libby and Chris want to see their aunt Kate again. Plus, you owe me for bailing you out with Mom about coming home so we could meet your New Yorker boyfriend._ "

"Fine." I glance at Kenny, who is looking back at me. "See you on Saturday."

" _Friday night._ "

"Fine, Friday night."

" _Bye!_ "

He hung up and I sigh again.

"Something wrong, babe?" Kenny asks, looking at me worriedly.

"My brother's coming to town with my niece and nephew this weekend. They're staying here, too, so you can meet part of my family."

"Fantastic. And when's the foster girl coming?"

"Sunday. Shit!" I rush around and start cleaning. "I'm sorry, Kenny. We'll have to do this another time."

"I have the day off. I can help you."

"Aw, thank you!"

* * *

 _Knock, knock._

I look up from the TV as Stan heads over to open the door. Kate had to go out shopping, so it can't be her. He slides it open and freezes.

"Oh my—" he gasps, backing up. The person who enters is none other than the bane of our existence from elementary school—Eric Cartman. I shoot up from the couch and stand in front of him, staring.

"What the—" I start to say, but he covers my mouth and gestures behind him. There are two little kids—a boy and a girl. The girl looks a lot like a young, skinny, female version of him, while the boy looks only a little like him.

"Shut up, Kinney!" he hisses. "Do you _want_ to corrupt Libby and Chris?"

"Wait, how the heck did you find us?" I ask, watching my words carefully.

"I'm here to visit my stepsister," he sighs. "I guess I misread the address she gave me, since I'm with you guys."

"I—you have kids?!" Stan yelps, finally able to speak.

"Yeah, twins. Their mom left me."

"Daddy, who's he?" the girl—I'm guessing Libby—asks, looking up at me with round blue eyes. "Where's Auntie Kate?"

"This is Kenny," Cartman sighs, and that's when it clicks in my brain. _He's_ Kate's brother.

 _I'm dating Cartman's sister. JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!_

"Where _is_ Kate?" Cartman asks me, crossing his arms.

"She lives in the apartment below us," I reply. "She's been ready for your visit since Monday."

"Well, nobody answered down there, so I assumed it was empty. Also, the door was locked."

"I have a key. I'll let you guys in and sit with you until Kate comes back."

"YAY!" Libby cheers. She seems sweet, so I'm trying to figure out how she's related to the human waste heap known as Eric Cartman. She must get it from her mom.

Outside the door, Cartman picks up two backpacks and a suitcase as he follows me down the stairs. I pull out my keys to Kate's apartment and unlock her door, allowing the twins to enter before their father. Libby runs over to one of Kate's bookshelves—the one full of picture books and board books—and pulls a few off the shelf. Cartman has this weird look on his face as Chris bounces onto Kate's couch and hides under the throw pillows and blankets. Is that… _pride_?

"So Eric Cartman found a girl desperate enough to sleep with him, eh?" I ask as we sit down in the kitchen.

"I loved her—she left me because she wanted to finish getting an education without the kids distracting her. It's been two months."

"Huh, weird."

"Hey, wait a sec. Why do you have a key to Kate's apartment?"

"Uh… I think _she_ should tell you that."

"Are you... _sleeping with my sister_?!"

"No! We're just dating right now!"

"Listen to me, McCormick," Cartman says in a low tone that scares the shit out of me. "If you hurt Kate in _any way_ , I will do to you what I did to the Tenormans, _capisce_?!"

"Noted."

* * *

"So, how long have you gay-wads lived in New York?"

The sound of Eric's voice in my apartment—without me in it—catches me off-guard. I'm currently carrying several bags of groceries, but I set them down to open the door. The scene I see upon opening it is a little bizarre. Kenny is sitting in the kitchen with Eric while Libby is surrounding by picture books and I assume Chris is hiding under the pillows and blankets on the couch. I bring in the groceries, unnoticed by anybody, and slam a bottle of vanilla extract in front of Kenny. He jumps to his feet and hugs me tightly as I notice Eric glaring at his back.

"Um, Kenny, did you let my brother in?" I ask as he lets go.

"Yep. He and the kids came to our apartment after they tried to get in here." He shoots Eric a look and Eric makes a face at him. "I know him from when we were kids in Colorado—"

"You know each other?" I give Eric a confused look.

"Yeah," Eric sighs. "Kinney here was the poor kid. We were buddies—the four of us."

"So, you, Kyle, Kenny, and Stan?"

"We weren't really _friends_ so much as we were neighbors who hung out," Kenny corrects.

"AUNTIE KATE!"

Libby throws a book to the side, runs up to me, and hugs my knees. She looks up at me with her big blue eyes as Chris comes out of hiding and hugs me, too.

"Where have you been?" Chris asks.

"I was getting food for the weekend," I reply. "Can you guys let go so I can hug your daddy?"

"Okay!" The twins let go simultaneously and I begrudgingly hug Eric.

"Nice to see you too, sis."

"Well, I'm going to start making dinner. Kenny, are you going to stay?"

"No," Eric says just as Kenny says, "Yes." They glare at each other for a minute before I groan and facepalm.

"You know what? I'll invite a few other people over. I'm sure Quinn and the Tuckers would _love_ to meet the twins. Oh, and we can't forget Stan and Kyle."

"Great idea, babe," Kenny says, giving me a kiss on the cheek.

* * *

This is the most awkward time I've ever had in my life.

It turns out the Tuckers are Craig and Tweek, two guys I knew back in South Park who got married recently. It's bizarre that they started dating when we were in fourth grade and now they're married. A _lot_ of Kate's friends are gay, it turns out. Quinn (who I've met only one time before today) is dating a girl from back in South Park named Bebe Stevens. I know Craig, Tweek, and Bebe have been glaring at me since they arrived because I had a bit of a reputation for being a player back in high school. Right now, they're talking with Cartman, Kyle, and Stan, catching up while I help Kate cook dinner.

"I don't think your friends like me much," I joke weakly.

"Yeah," she sighs, leaning on the counter. "Tweek, Craig, and Bebe were all against me dating you from the start. They said you were a bad seed, but I think that's bullshit."

"Really?"

"Yes! You've been nothing but a gentleman except for the one time you got drunk and grabbed at my—"

"Okay, okay! I get it!" She smirks and switches off the stove. "Jesus, I love you." She freezes.

 _Oh, fuck._

"… really?"

"Yes…?"

"I love you too."

I relax a bit, wondering why she froze like that. I'll ask her some other time. Right now, I have to help set out dinner for people I haven't seen since high school.

"So, what are you doing now?" Bebe asks me as we all sit down and start serving ourselves. Cartman is sitting in between the twins and spoons food onto their plates. Libby is trying to make Kyle laugh.

Oh, Kyle. When he found out Cartman was a single dad to three-year-old twins, he started laughing until he realized we were dead serious. He has since been extremely quiet, but Libby seems to be making him smile a bit.

"I'm a mechanic at a garage a few blocks from here," I reply. "It's a great job and I'm putting all my automotive classes to use."

"Uh-huh, and how did you two meet?" Cartman asks, looking from me to Kate. He's judging me. What the fuck? I'm not the one who had twins with a woman who ditched me.

"I was having problems with my electricity," Kate speaks up. "I accidentally shocked myself and yelled out a bad word—" she looks at the twins, who are watching her with wide blue eyes "—and Kenny was out in the hall. He heard me and knocked on my door to make sure I was okay. He was the one who figured out what was wrong with my power and he helped me fix it. He asked me out to lunch and the rest is history."

"Cute!" Quinn squeals, smiling.

At least one of Kate's people is on my side…

* * *

Holy shit, this evening has been awkward. Tweek, Craig, and Bebe are totally icing out Kenny, and then there's the fact that Kenny told me he loved me. I said it back, but now he and the other guys have gone back to his apartment (Tweek and Craig went home, as did Quinn and Bebe). The twins have gone to bed, so I'm alone with my brother.

"Do you _really_ hate Kenny?" I blurt as he comes out of the guest room.

"Of course I do!" he snaps. "He's an asshole!"

"But he's been nothing but sweet ever since we started dating."

"Yeah, that's how he's going to lure you in. I kept in contact with a couple of people back in South Park—namely, Clyde and Butters—and they told me about how Kenny became a womanizing jackass. You're my baby sister, Kate, and I'm worried you'll get hurt, all alone in the big city."

"Well, it could be worse."

"How?"

"Eric, I live in Alphabet City. Half of my neighbors are drug addicts or former drug addicts, and half of them have AIDs. Would you rather I be with them?"

"No!"

"See? Kenny's not so bad."

"Up yours, Jersey Whore," he sighs, lying down on the couch.

"Fuck you, fatass," I reply with a smile.

I head into my room after turning out the light and lie down, staring at the ceiling.

In the distance, I hear the wail of an ambulance getting closer until the lights come through the window. I wonder who's going to the hospital. I hope it's not one of the Davises or Mr. Collins. They've all had enough heartbreak.

Heartbreak.

 _Is Kenny really a womanizer?_

I roll over and glance at the cheesy photobooth strip I have clipped to my lamp. I insisted we go into the booth during a street fair about a month ago. Kenny has a gap-toothed grin in the first photo, a michevious smirk as he puts bunny ears above my head in the second, a shocked expression as I kiss him on the cheek in the third, and he's kissing me in the last one. That was our first kiss, in that booth, and he was so freaked out afterwards, like he'd done something wrong.

I told him it was fine, but if I'm being honest, I'm scared.

I'm scared that everything might shatter in a moment…

* * *

Today, Kate asked me to take Cartman and the twins out so she could get ready for the foster girl that's coming this afternoon. It was easy enough to occupy the twins—I took them to Central Park and F.A.O Schwarz, so they enjoyed themselves. Cartman was constantly asking me questions about my time in New York, which made it slightly awkward. It seemed like he was trying to get me to admit that I'd been with other women besides Kate. I haven't, of course, but he thinks differently because he's Cartman.

"Hey, how much has Kate told you about… about our family?" he asks in a quiet voice.

"Not much. We don't talk about our families much. I know her dad smacked her around a bit, and that he hurt her mother worse."

"Her dad killed her mom."

My jaw drops.

"She hasn't told _me_ , but Pete talks about it, especially with the anniversary coming up. I figured you should know."

"How… how did it happen?"

"I'm not sure about the details, but from what I know, Lisa—Kate's birth mom—was in an argument with Kate's birth dad, Mike. He got mad and stabbed her repeatedly, and, from what I heard, Kate was in the room next to them. She was the first one in."

"Where's her dad now?"

"Prison. He tried to plead 'not guilty' but he got convicted anyway."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because, even though _your_ parents are pretty shitty, they're nowhere _near_ as bad as Kate's dad. And she's going to need you soon, because the anniversary of her mom's death is in three weeks and she _always_ gets really emotional and closed off. Don't let her."

"So… you're letting me date her?"

"Yes, if you promise not to hurt her."

"You got it."

* * *

 _Knock, knock._

I go to the door and open it to see Garrison Jones, the former social worker of my in-between foster daughter. He has her with him—a girl who looks twelve, but I know from her file that she's sixteen. She's small for her age due to malnutrition and stress, which I understand.

"This is Katherine Meyercheck," Garrison tells her. "Shake her hand." She shakes my hand and I smile.

"It's nice to meet you, Karen," I say. "I hope you'll enjoy living here."

She shifts uncertainly on her feet as I lead her into the apartment. She's the quietest foster child I've ever had—and the oldest. I can't wait for her to open up a bit.

"Here's her paperwork. You'll get started on finding her a home?"

"Of course. Hopefully, a permanent one."

"Thank you, Katherine. Good day." Garrison leaves and I show Karen her room. She sits on the bed and takes a battered doll out of her backpack.

"That's a nice doll," I tell her. "Is it important to you?"

"It was a gift from my older brother when I was little," she whispers.

"Your older brother?"

"He was the only one who cared about me, but Momma and Daddy threw him out of the house when he was eighteen and told him to never come back."

"Oh, God." I hug her, and we sit in silence for a few minutes and she cries. I let her cry as much as she wants.

I then hear the front door open.

Kenny's here.

"Kate, where are you?" Eric calls.

"I'm in the guest room!" I call back before looking at Karen. "I have to go say goodbye to my brother really quick, okay? You can come too, if you want." She nods and holds onto my arm as we head into the main room. Libby is asleep in Eric's arms, while Chris is on his father's back. I then see Kenny, his back to us, closing the door. Karen lets go of my arm and steps towards him, her eyes wide.

"K-Kenny?!" she squeaks, louder than I've ever heard her talk. He whips around and stares, his mouth open.

"Karen?!" he gasps, before running up to hug her. "Oh my God!"

"You know each other?" I ask.

"She's my sister," he replies, his voice cracking with emotion. "Jesus, Karen, what are you doing here?" He's gripping her shoulders as he holds her at arms-length.

"I've been in foster care for three years," she says, tears in her eyes. "Kate's my new foster mom." He looks at me, and Eric backs away, waking Libby up a little.

"Daddy?" she yawns.

"Shush, Libby."

* * *

It's been three weeks since Karen arrived in New York. Since then, I've gone to court to fight to have Karen move in with me. They were reluctant, due to the fact that I live with two other men, but I pointed out that she'd be safer there than at a group home somewhere. Kate backed me up as a character witness and I think I only won my case because of her. Karen's still a little closed-off, but she's started talking more. I can't even imagine what she went through.

Today, she's off at school and I'm home. Out of habit, I head down to Kate's apartment, even though I'm pretty sure she's at work.

I'm wrong.

She's curled up on her couch, staring blankly at the TV.

"Kate?" I say. "Babe, shouldn't you be at work?"

"Not today," she mumbles.

Then I recall the conversation I had with Cartman a few weeks back. I sit beside her and hug her close to me. She starts sobbing and curls into my chest.

"Why, Kenny?" she croaks. "Why her?"

"Shh…" I soothe, stroking her hair.

* * *

Today is my worst day.

Thirteen years ago today, my father murdered my mother right in front of me.

My uncle tells everybody I was in another room, but I was right there. My birth father then proceeded to stab me before my uncle showed up and got me out of there as fast as he fucking could.

Kenny showed up while I was feeling particularly shitty, and he stayed with me all day. I cried all over him, but he didn't care. He let me cry, just like I let Karen cry when she arrived here. While I was crying, he explained that Eric had warned him this was coming so he wouldn't leave me alone. I felt both comforted and angry that Eric had done that.

I'm getting better every year, but it's still hard.

At least I have Kenny…

* * *

 **BOOM.**

 **BEHOLD, THE LONGEST ONE-SHOT I'VE EVER WRITTEN.**

 **Originally, this chapter was going to be based of the movie** _ **RENT**_ **, but then this idea popped in my head and wouldn't leave me alone.**

 **I hope you enjoyed. I will do a follow-up if you guys want one!**

 **So long and thanks for all the fish!**


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